


Plus One

by TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy



Series: Hartcroft [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Banter, Falling In Love, M/M, Multi, Switch!Greg, Switch!Mycroft, Threesome - M/M/M, Top!Harry, all sexy times are at the start, doesn’t need many tags, it’s what it says on the box, last chapter is an epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24443212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy/pseuds/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy
Summary: Greg runs across Mycroft and Harry. They take advantage of the situation.
Relationships: Harry Hart/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Harry Hart, Mycroft Holmes/Harry Hart/Greg Lestrade
Series: Hartcroft [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765309
Comments: 59
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

Greg felt like a stalker, but he just couldn’t look away. He’d decided on a whim to take a longer walk through London that Friday evening, just to clear his head. It was good to move, not to sit in front of the telly the whole day. It was nice out, a lovely early summer day, the atmosphere light and happy in the city. He’d been walking aimlessly for about an hour, when he turned the corner and his eyes fell on a cafe, little tables tastefully arranged. 

And there, hidden partially behind a flowering shrub, was Mycroft Holmes. Greg took another step for a better view. He was wearing a light blue summer shirt, top buttons open. His hair wasn’t styled, falling in slight waves. Sunglasses hanging off the shirt. But nothing he was wearing was more brilliant, more attractive than the smile that seemed very content with himself.

Greg’s heart skipped a beat—and then another. A second man stepped up to the table, carrying a tray with two plates, placed them before he sat down. A hand found its way to Mycroft’s arm, he saw him smile and lean in, and the two shared a short, sweet kiss.

As they parted, Mycroft looked up, directly at Greg. A grin, a wave. For a moment, Greg wanted to run. Then—against all better instincts—he walked over, eyeing the other man as he went. Slightly older than Mycroft. White shirt over denim trousers. A mischievous smile. Incredibly soft eyes.

“Inspector Lestrade! What a pleasant surprise,” Mycroft said and indicated a chair at the table.

“I’m not on the clock. Greg will be fine.”

“Gregory, then,” Mycroft said and turned to the other man just as Greg sat down. “He’s an acquaintance. We’ve suffered together under my brother.”

“Ah, brothers in arms, then. A pleasure. The name’s Harry. Harry Hart,” the other said and held out a hand.

“Greg Lestrade. Likewise,” Greg replied and took the offered hand, noting with surprise how rough it was.

“Harry is my partner,” Mycroft said, then, smiling at him.

“Mhm... since last winter,” Harry nodded, one hand on Mycroft’s thigh. They looked at each other, a conversation between their eyes. Mycroft nodded.

“We met professionally,” Mycroft added.

“Ah, you work in government?” Greg asked.

Harry, who had taken a bite out of the chocolate eclair in front of him, shook his head, yet he said nothing. It was clear he left it to Mycroft to explain.

“I’d been targeted. Harry had been assigned as bodyguard for an… eventful while.”

Greg nodded. He looked back and forth between the two men. Why was he even sitting here? He was clearly intruding. He had formed a tentative friendship with Mycroft over the last years, had been privy to a lot of things, but that was it… 

“That’s good. I’m happy for you, I really am. You seem content. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you content,” he said. “It’s a good look on you.”

“Thank you. I am very much content, I assure you.”

“I mean, how could you not be?”

It had slipped out, together with an obvious once over of Harry Hart, who merely laughed.

“My, you’re a genius,” he chuckled.

“What’s going on?” Greg asked.

“Well… I may have mentioned you sometimes… And here you are. Just before a long weekend. Convenient,” Mycroft said.

He leaned over, put his mouth next to Greg’s ear. The proximity, Mycroft’s breath on his neck and the hand that suddenly appeared on his thigh all conspired to make his hair stand on edge.

“I’ve seen you… looking at me in the past,” Mycroft whispered like a secret, and maybe it was. “Was I wrong?”

“No,” Greg said, choked. “Not wrong.”

“Gregory…” Mycroft breathed and a shiver ran through Greg’s body. He saw Harry grinning on the other side of the table, licking some chocolate from his fingers. “We’ve been thinking of involving a third… and I can’t think of anyone more suited than you.”

Mycroft turned his head and dragged his lips along Greg’s cheek before drawing back. Without skipping a beat he picked up his own eclair and licked some of the cream that had overflown from the side. Greg looked back and forth between the two men, who were sitting there like it was just a normal day out, peacefully sipping tea, eating their treats… like they hadn’t just invited him to… to…

“Are you for real?” he stammered.

“Very much,” Harry said between two sips of tea. “You don’t know how often I have to—”

“Harry!” Mycroft cut him off.

“Yes, yes. In any case, it would be so much easier with some help.”

Mycroft barely blushed. Greg shook his head, let out a barking laugh. “Alright. Alright. Yes. Yes, I’ll help you. You’re both mad.”

“Not mad,” Harry said. “Simply not afraid of asking for what we want. Another round of sweets?”

“That would be lovely,” Mycroft replied. “Are strawberries still in season?”

“I’ll have a look, darling.”

Harry gave Mycroft a light kiss, licking his lips as he drew back, and then he was gone, back into the cafe. Greg stared after him, only belatedly realising that he was ogling—

“A great view, isn’t it?” Mycroft smirked. “I enjoy it very much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re invited, after all.”

Greg looked at Mycroft. “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”

“I don’t know myself most days now… but I’m happy. Everything’s lighter, more fun. Reckless, even. Like today.”

“So he’s good for you,” Greg mused.

“I haven’t felt so young since I was actually young. Maybe it’s his behaviour, maybe it’s just because I’m madly in love…”

Greg smiled. “Looks good on you.”

“What?”

“Love.”

Mycroft smiled back. “Thank you.”

“Maybe I can get to know him… you know, after?”

This time it was Mycroft’s time to laugh. “Yes, definitely.”


	2. Chapter 2

“It’s right around the corner. I got the place a month ago, had it redone… We were celebrating the move,” Mycroft said as they walked away from the cafe, down the alleyway.

“Hadn’t actually thought we’d do it… you know… right now?” Greg said.

“Second thoughts?” Harry asked, put his arm around Greg, leaned close.

Greg looked into Harry’s eyes, which were in stark contrast to the sharp lines of the rest of him. Gentle, warm and soft.

“I won’t lie, I’m nervous. But I’m not having second thoughts.”

“You’re allowed to have second thoughts any time,” Harry said earnestly. “Any time, I mean it. We’re here to have fun, and if it isn’t anymore, or if you need a break, you say it immediately. I’m happy to just have a cup of tea and talk instead.”

Greg nodded. It was a bit sobering, but it was important. Not that he didn’t trust Mycroft, but…

“Thank you. I’ll let you know. For now, at least… You have my enthusiastic consent.”

Harry grinned, looked at Mycroft, who nodded. A moment later, Greg found himself  
pushed gently but insistently against a brick wall, Harry’s hands on his hips. After a moment of surprise, he put his own arms around Harry and let himself be thoroughly snogged. They parted with a satisfied sigh, Harry looking very smug, which was an incredibly sexy look on him. He was similar to Mycroft at first glance, but underneath the posh exterior was a self-assured strength that made Greg weak at the knees. He glanced over Harry’s shoulder to see Mycroft grin like he knew exactly what Greg was feeling.

“The place is just around the corner,” Mycroft laughed as he stepped closer until he was flush with Harry’s back.

“So?” Harry asked, pressing himself closer to Greg, a hard erection as clear evidence of his arousal against his leg.

“Just saying…”

Mycroft leaned over Harry’s shoulder and snuck a brief and soft kiss from Greg’s lips, who felt like an electric shock ran through him as they touched. He cleared his throat.

“Let’s get inside before I have to arrest myself for public indecency.”

They made it to the flat in one piece and just moments after the door was locked Greg was treated to the lovely vision of Mycroft and Harry in each other’s arms, kissing full of love and devotion. To give them a moment of privacy he looked at his surroundings instead.

The entrance door led directly into a large, bright and airy room. Floor to ceiling windows, light wood, open kitchen. A corner with painting supplies.

“It’s tiny, I know. But it’s meant to be. Something small, shared and private,” Mycroft said behind him.

“You’re not doing a very good job keeping it private,” Greg mused.

“Ah, but I know I can count on your discretion, inspector. Such a fine, upstanding member of the police force would never rat me out.”

Greg could hear Mycroft coming closer as he talked, feel him hover behind him, mouth close to his neck. He dropped his arms, let his body go slack in a clear gesture of willing surrender and was rewarded with two hands on his waist, sneaking under his shirt… and a pair of lips on his skin just underneath the hairline. He huffed a laugh.

“Ticklish?” Mycroft asked.

“Sorry. Only the absurdity of the situation. I can’t believe you—ah! Fuck!”

Greg convulsed slightly as Mycroft bit down, the spark of arousal flooding his system like a surge of adrenaline. He reached back, finding Mycroft’s shirt to hold on. He felt like he should ask something important, but there was nothing he wanted more than to enjoy himself. He pushed his body into Mycroft’s eager fingers, which had wandered upwards, gliding over his chest, and he was gasping slightly.

“My,” Harry said from somewhere. “What did you have in mind?”

Greg felt Mycroft turn his head, but there were no words. Still, he knew there was understanding because Mycroft detached himself with one last kiss to the side of his neck. He watched him go into the room and disappear through a door on the other side.

“Now… you may know him longer than me,” Harry said as soon as they were alone. “But I’m quite sure he’s never told you that he’s entertained a number of fantasies starring you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. He wouldn’t have told me either but I…” Harry had taken off his jacket and was now rolling up his sleeves. “Well, I tied him up and edged the secrets out of him. What a fun night that was. He’s so very beautiful when he cries… for the right sort of reasons, that is.”

Greg swallowed. “And now?”

“Now we’re going after him and I will watch how you first undress him, then push him to his knees and…” Harry came close enough to whisper the last words into Greg’s ear. “...take him while I fuck his mouth. Can you do that for me? You said you’d help.”

“He’s…”

“Very much on board with this. Don’t worry, I can and I will stop if I recognise him having doubts. Or if you’re having doubts.”

Greg shook his head. “No doubts. I… I just can’t believe this is happening.”

Harry put one hand on Greg’s cheek, the other on his hip. “Sometimes coincidence is responsible for your greatest happiness. It certainly was for mine. Just let it happen, alright?”

Greg smiled at that and kissed Harry, hands in his hair. Harry laughed and kissed back, enthusiastic and turned on just as much. They pressed close, evidently excited. Harry panted as he drew back.

“Let’s not keep him waiting for too long, shall we?”

Greg pushed a hand through his hair. “Let’s not.”


	3. Chapter 3

Greg thought he might spontaneously combust. He just had to step through this door and he could… he could… Greg’s hand hesitated on the door handle, but then Harry’s joined him and first pushed the door open, then Greg into the room. He almost stumbled as his feet didn’t find flooring but rather something that felt like a pillow. Now he knew why Harry had insisted on taking off their shoes and socks.

Even though Mycroft was in the room, he had to do a double take of the place itself first. The whole space had been laid out with grey cushions, reaching waist high at the walls… like the room was one big bed to roll around in. The windows stretched between two walls, over a corner, but they were covered with white curtains for privacy.

“It was Harry’s idea,” Mycroft quickly defended himself.

“Who doesn’t want a room to roll around in? Who in their right mind would refuse such an opportunity?” Harry stated, looking rather pleased with himself. “Besides, it doubles as the bedroom… with plenty of space for Greg to sleep over.”

“You… you want me to stay?” Greg mumbled.

“It’s a long weekend. You don’t think Mycroft will be satisfied doing this just once?” Harry laughed. “Besides, you look like you need a proper rest. Now go on, help me.”

Greg’s feet found their way automatically, coming to stand next to Mycroft. This was it. No need to hesitate any longer. But…

“Harry told me you were on board with—”

“Yes. Everything. It’s good of you to confirm,” Mycroft said and took Greg’s hand to place it on his belt buckle. “I appreciate your concern. But if you’re not going to fuck me soon I’ll—”

This time it was Mycroft’s turn to be cut off as Greg put a hand on his cock and squeezed it through the fabric. His knees buckled and he grabbed Greg’s shirt to steady himself while producing the sweetest sound Greg had ever heard him make.

“You want me to fuck you?” he whispered.

“Desperately.”

“I’ll have you on your knees for me. You want that?”

“Yesss,” Mycroft hissed. “I want to.”

Greg made quick work of Mycroft’s trousers and shirt, until he was clad just in a pair of black pants.

“Stay,” he said and walked around him, finally able to inspect the body he had dreamed of so often. He let his hand roam, brushing over exposed skin, making Mycroft shiver and gasp. In the corner of his eye Greg could see Harry having taken a seat at one of the walls, leaving his back against the plush pillows. He wasn’t far, but obviously staying out of it for now.

He was also stroking his cock through an open fly, the red flesh clearly visible in his hand. He was unhurried, watching the performance with gleaming eyes.

Greg couldn’t wait any longer. He grabbed Mycroft over his pants and stroked him a few times.

“Ahhh!” Mycroft shouted and crumbled, clinging once more to Greg’s arm. This time he had pity. He went to his knees, taking the pants down with him and immediately swallowed Mycroft down.

“Gregory!” Mycroft whimpered, holding onto his head as Greg sucked.

Oh, how he had missed this. The familiar shape, the warmth in his mouth. The slightly salty taste of sweat, the bittersweet promise of precum. He let his tongue glide over the slit, licking up everything that leaked out while Mycroft was shaking above him, cursing under his breath when Greg sucked harder. He was a comfortable length. Just enough to swallow down, press his forehead against Mycroft’s chest until he pulled off again, licking his lips.

“Gregory,” Mycroft whispered again and dropped to his knees.

Greg found himself tackled to the floor, the cushions welcoming them, Mycroft above him. Their lips met in a kiss, Mycroft sucking on his tongue, moaning as he tasted himself, bodies wrapped up, Mycroft’s wet cock rubbing against the rough fabric of Greg’s trousers. It was dizzying to be desired this much, to be wanted. Greg could barely come up for air, and he didn’t want to.

Only belatedly he realised that they had rolled next to Harry’s legs and was surprised when Mycroft was pulled away from all of a sudden by a hand in his hair, his face an expression of pure pleasure. Harry pulled once more and Mycroft went willingly onto all fours, crawling between Harry’s leg, mouth sinking down on the exposed erection with a sigh. Harry made a relaxed noise as Mycroft took him into his mouth, as if he was sinking into a warm bath. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Greg, then downwards, throwing a small bottle towards him from god knows where.

“No prep. Just take him slowly,” he said, voice rough, then put a hand on Mycroft’s head to get his attention. “That’s what you wanted, sweetheart, isn’t it? To be taken from both sides?”

Mycroft pulled off for a moment, glancing upwards. “Yes. Please. Nothing more than that.”


	4. Chapter 4

Mycroft had died and gone to heaven. He was kneeling naked between his lovers legs, licking along his hot cock, while listening to the sounds of Gregory Lestrade taking off his clothes in preparation to… in pre…

He moaned loudly, shivering under Harry's hands, one in his hair, one stroking the skin of his neck. Not demanding—grounding. There was no need to entice Mycroft to take him deeper… he was happy to do that on his own. What a day. What a fucking fantastic day. They had planned on shagging most of it away in this room anyway, but Greg… what providence. What luck. Part of him wanted to see the man naked right now, but there would be enough time for that later…

A hand joined Harry’s on his back, slowly drifting lower, until it had reached his cheeks, one thumb over his hole like a promise, not pushing, just resting. Mycroft’s whole world narrowed down to that finger as it started to stroke, forming gentle circles.

“Ah, ah… darling,” Harry said sweetly as his hand tightened in Mycroft’s hair. “Don’t stop. You have such a lovely mouth.”

Mycroft moaned as he was pushed down, the sound echoed behind him from Greg’s throat, who used his other hand to pour out a generous amount of lube, the noise of which was so familiar to Mycroft’s ears. The thumb was still there, and it, combined with the slick noise of Greg stroking himself… and the pressure of Harry’s erection on his tongue made his own cock jump. He gasped and dug his fingers into Harry’s thighs, into the denim he was still wearing. His eyes were watering as he looked up.

“Fuck him or he’ll come from the anticipation alone,” Harry said, his words arriving at Mycroft’s ears through a haze.

Greg gave a choked off groan and then Mycroft felt it, the head of his slick cock pressed against his hole. He wanted to cry out, but Harry took that moment to press his head down, so he merely whimpered, making helpless little sounds as he was penetrated slowly and steadily, which did nothing to temper his arousal.

So full… so full… no air… no room… 

He was crying now, sobbing around Harry’s cock, from overwhelming pleasure, only taking a moment to breathe when Greg was fully seated, and he felt his hot, sweaty body pressed against him. He was shaking between them, shivering.

Then Greg pulled out almost fully and pushed back in hard. It was over. Mycroft couldn’t stop it. He’d wanted this for so long. It was everything he dreamed of… it was…

He heard Greg curse as he came, clenching down, cock jumping, dripping down on the cushion. Harry, bless him, held Mycroft’s head down so that he could barely make a sound, cock ever deeper down his throat as he yelled, thrashed. The world went offline for a moment, and when it came back he was still stuck between these two brilliant men, filling him up in all the right ways.

“Did he just…” Greg mumbled.

“Yes,” Harry replied smugly.

“Oh,” Greg said and Mycroft could feel him grow even harder inside him, cock twitching.

“And now we get to the fun part,” Harry added. “Where we use his body to get off.”

A short while later Harry had pushed Mycroft up on his hands and knees. Mycroft looked down his own body and could see his sticky cock hanging down limp and useless, dripping still. The sight let a pleasant shiver run through his body. He raised his head to receive Harry’s erection once more, moaning contently as his lover set a slow rhythm, pushing in almost lovingly. Harry brushed the last tears from Mycroft’s face, patting his head.

“Alright there, sweet?”

Mycroft hummed affirmatively, tapped the cushion below him two times. All green. Apparently this was all the confirmation Greg needed, as he pushed back in. Mycroft felt overwhelmed and oversensitive and he loved it. The two other men quickly found a comfortable push and pull that had them pant above him, chasing their peak. Mycroft could feel their pleasure in his bones with every movement, every moan. He loved it like this, all calm and pliant, not focussed on his own arousal, just a pleasant buzz in which he could feel his partner’s enjoyment. The feeling of his body being used to give pleasure. It was no wonder his own cock started filling in again, but it was an afterthought to the harmony of grunts and gasps above him.

“I can’t…” he heard Greg hiss between clenched teeth. “Mycroft… ah…”

A rush of warmth inside him, the feeling, the shaking of Greg’s body pressed so close, was just as good as his own orgasm, the rush of endorphins flooding him as Greg’s fingers dug into his hips, a high that made his body heat up. And there was no time to calm down, as Harry followed Greg over the edge, spilling himself down Mycroft’s throat. It was hot. It was messy. It was glorious. Mycroft sputtered and coughed, spit and come running down his face as he dropped down on the cushion. Two pairs of hands turned him over on his back and then there was mouth on him, sucking, two fingers pushing into him. Mycroft screamed and he came again, pulsing, twitching as he was held down.

“Fuck,” he exhaled as his muscles finally gave up, as he was released.

“Indeed,” Harry laughed.

“You’re staying, Gregory. The whole weekend. You’re not leaving until we’ve done this at least five times. Fuck.”

Greg laughed helplessly, lying on his stomach between Mycroft’s leg, covered in his release.

“I’m never leaving this room again.”


	5. Chapter 5

Harry put a blanket over Mycroft‘s sleeping form, who had rolled over, cuddled up in the corner of the room. Ah, Mycroft was so adorable… So charming when he was all soft like this. Harry whispered a declaration of love and kissed Mycroft’s head. Then he turned around and smiled at Greg, who was buttoning up his shirt, forgoing the trousers for the moment.

“Thank you,” Greg whispered as Harry stepped up to him.

“No, thank you. That was amazing.”

He kissed Greg’s cheek lightly, then surveyed the damage to the floor. Several cushions had obvious stains and would need to be washed. He picked up one square and handed it to Greg, who got the gist pretty quickly. From a closet hidden in the wall he got some fresh covers. Together they replaced them all.

“Something to drink?” he asked, gathering the dirty cloth in his arms.

“Yes, that sounds heavenly.”

Greg followed him, watched Harry put on the laundry in a small washing machine hidden in a kitchen cupboard.

“I figured this would happen, so I had the washer put in,” he laughed and pointed to the fridge. “Help yourself.”

He eyed Greg from behind as the man retrieved a cold bottle of water. Mycroft had taste. Well, he’d chosen Harry. Obviously he had taste. He smirked, wore the expression still when Greg turned back around, because he knew how good it looked on his face. Ha! No wonder Mycroft called him vain sometimes.

“So,” Greg started as he took two glasses from a shelf. “It feels weird to ask you after the fact… but you and Mycroft?”

“Give me a second,” Harry said and reached for his glasses. Facial recognition brought up Greg’s file. Harry whistled. “Your security clearance is exceeding usual DI levels.”

“Well. I helped Mycroft out in some delicate matters before. But what’s actually responsible is Sherlock dropping some documents on my desk that I was not at all allowed to see. It was either getting me clearance or… well. You see.”

“He trusts you.”

“I think so,” Greg said. “I trust him too.”

“And you never…?”

“Honestly… it crossed my mind before, I’m not gonna lie. But it never… it was never the right time.”

Harry took a sip of the water that Greg had put in front of him. “Jealous?”

“No, not as such.”

“Elaborate.”

Greg leaned back. “I’ve never seen him so relaxed. Happy. I’ve often wondered what I could do to make him less… tense. You’re very good for him.”

“Thank you. I hope we can make each other happy for a long time yet.”

They exchanged a long gaze and Harry watched Greg’s eyes soften. “You really love him,” he said, and there was only fondness in his words.

“God help me, I do. How could I not?”

“Indeed.”

They both fell back into their chairs, contently smiling. He watched Greg take another sip of water, completely open and carefree in just his shirt and pants. 

“So, now that you confirmed my clearance, will you tell me what you actually do?” 

“Well, I can’t tell you the actual name of my organisation… but you could call me a secret agent. In that regard I was assigned as a temporary bodyguard for Mycroft.”

“Oooh, a regular James Bond, then?”

Harry laughed. “Something like that.”

“I bet you look downright edible in a proper suit.”

Harry hummed. “Suppose I don’t look too bad without any clothes as well.”

He picked up the water bottle as he stood up, holding out one hand, looking at Greg expectantly, grinning when the other took him up on the offer. He dragged him in close, first licked along his lips and then shared a deep kiss.

“Entertain me until Mycroft wakes up?”

“With pleasure.”


	6. Chapter 6

They ended up back in the room, Harry pulling Greg down to the floor, who went more than willingly. He could see what Mycroft liked about the man. Harry was charming, incredibly attractive and most of all had a self-assured confidence that made you feel like you were in very good hands. If Mycroft trusted him, Greg had no doubts about the man. And Mycroft did trust him—both of them—being peacefully asleep still. They settled in next to each other and Greg let a hand glide over Harry’s chest.

“Care to prove your earlier statement?”

“Oh, yes.”

Harry made quick work of his buttons and the shirt fell open. Greg barely suppressed a gasp, his hand following the line of Harry’s torso. It was hard, muscular in a way he expected men twenty years his junior to be. Harry just grinned, shimmied out of his trousers to reveal toned legs that put Greg’s efforts at keeping fit though running to shame.

“Occupational hazard,” Harry laughed.

“Can’t be Bond without being able to single handedly kick at least fifty henchmen’s butts?”

“Closer to thirty henchmen nowadays… I’m not getting any younger… But, yes. That’s the gist of it.”

Greg swallowed. “Bet you wouldn’t even have to stand up to kill me.”

“Why, does that excite you, Detective Inspector?” Harry asked and slotted one of his legs between Greg’s, pushing his knee up until he reached a very interested part of his anatomy.

“Apparently,” Greg managed, suddenly hot all over. What was happening? It had been a joke, this James Bond quip. Now he had someone looming over him who was actually that dangerous and it… damn if it didn’t make him want to surrender in the worst/best ways.

Harry let his hand glide up Greg’s side, pushed his open shirt back to reveal his chest.

“Good. Very good. I find that arousal mixed with fear produces some very receptive partners. The anticipations makes you—”

Greg yelped as Harry brushed over his nipple. It had never been this sensitive, this…

“Yes, exactly. Fear me a bit harder and I can make you come just by biting your neck,” Harry said, his voice low and gravelly as he leaned over to do just that and Greg convulsed under him, effectively held in place by Harry’s hands on his, legs entwined, pinned to the floor.

“Fuck,” Greg breathed, shivered. His body had gone from zero to sixty, his mind screaming because someone who was basically still a stranger had him at his most vulnerable, and yet his cock threatened to rip his pants.

“Yessss,” Harry hissed against his neck, his voice so low and excited that there was no doubt he was getting off on this at least as much as Greg did. “Make small, helpless little noises. Ah, but you’re exquisite. I wonder if you take to the knife as well as Mycroft does.”

A deep moan from the other side of the room had both men turn their heads to see Mycroft, who was now facing them, hand moving very obviously under the blanket.

“Don’t stop,” Mycroft pleaded. “Please.”

“Well, if I’m asked so nicely…” Harry laughed.

In one swift movement that left Greg breathless, he had drawn up his shirt and wrapped it around his wrists, tying the sleeves together to trap his arms. He put pressure on Greg’s bound wrists together with a look that should’ve been frightening.

“Stay. There’s a good boy,” he said and moved down Greg’s body, took his pants with him.

Greg cried out as he was swallowed down expertly, knees pushed apart so far he felt exposed beyond his nakedness. Through the haze, the pleasure coursing through his veins he heard Mycroft moan hopelessly and then suddenly he was there, kneeling next to Greg, frantically moving his hand. Greg was spellbound. He couldn’t do anything else than open his mouth in a silent invitation. Mycroft straddled his chest and guided his cock into Greg’s mouth, moving his hips to give aborted, little thrusts, whimpering, gasping. Greg had never seen something so beautiful. 

Mycroft’s body was hot, he was sweaty, flushed. His face screwed tight with the effort of not coming right away. Greg suckled at the tip of Mycroft’s cock just as Harry swallowed him down completely. He cried out, suddenly too much, too soon, and he came like a sudden crash, legs held down with inhuman strength, body pinned under Mycroft, who grabbed Greg’s bound wrists and pushed them down too.

Greg couldn’t move, couldn’t escape, had to suffer through it all, every twitch, every wave. Every shout muffled by Mycroft’s cock in his mouth, moving insistently. He felt gloriously trapped, oversensitive, used, played. And then, suddenly his mouth was flooded, Mycroft crying out above him, all bitter and salty… incredible. Harry let go of his legs and he flipped Mycroft over, onto his side on the cushion, took him as deep as he could and sucked until the man was actually crying.

They all fell over afterwards, Greg panting almost as hard as Mycroft. Only Harry, the bastard, still wore his smug smile.

“You’ll both be the death of me,” Greg huffed.

“Now that would be a way to go,” Mycroft said, laughing.

“Turn over, darling,” Harry said then and Mycroft obliged… laying his body on top of Greg, kissing him.

He could feel Harry position himself behind Mycroft, had the pleasure of seeing Mycroft’s face as he pushed in, every minute change, every little gasp. He freed his wrists and wrapped both arms around Mycroft, who rocked above him, pushed into Greg’s body with every single one of Harry’s thrusts.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, kissing Mycroft’s neck, who cried out at a particularly hard thrust.

Harry groaned above them and Mycroft shook in response, moaning in empathy as Harry came, deep inside. Greg didn’t know where to look. Both of them were so… so…

Then Harry reached for his discarded trousers and pulled a little object from one of the pockets. Greg gasped when he recognised it. From Mycroft’s sound it was easy to know where the plug went. Harry pulled out and his cock was immediately replaced. Mycroft moaned at the sensation, then cuddled closer to Greg with a sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could write them all three together forever


	7. Chapter 7

Somehow they managed to get up, though Mycroft loathed to let go of Greg to do so. He snuggled closer as they moved from the bed to the bathroom. He saw Greg glance at Harry to see if it was alright to cling to Mycroft this way, even though Mycroft did most of the clinging.

“Gregory,” he said. “Harry won’t chop your head off for being nice to me. You were very, very nice to me before.”

“Well, that’s sex, this is…”

Harry opened the bathroom door to go ahead. “So you thought we’d have a go at it and then kick you out? Impossible with him,” he said and pointed at Mycroft. “You’ll have to pry him off. Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’re not comfortable?” Mycroft asked, letting go.

“Just don’t want to overstep,” Greg shrugged, but held on to Mycroft’s hand anyway.

“You’re sweet,” Mycroft said and he meant it. “But we know what we're doing. Otherwise we would’ve never invited you. Don’t overthink.”

“Alright. I’ll try. Thank you.”

“I have to thank you, Gregory. I’m probably not the Mycroft you expected to find.”

“You’re amazing,” Greg said and kissed his hand.

Then Harry turned on the shower. Just like that Greg was temporarily distracted by and grateful to the water running over Harry’s body. Mycroft watched his face with glee. He stepped behind Greg, head next to his, arm around his torso, stroking the skin gently. Together they watched Harry enjoy the spray, like a performance only for them.

“Pretty, isn’t he?”

Greg made a choked off noise. Mycroft nibbled on his neck. Harry was indeed delicious, but Greg was a very interesting flavour too… And how lucky he was that Harry loved watching him try it. He exchanged a loving gaze with his partner, the fresh wind who had put his life on his head. Hell, he’d even reduced his working hours… How he’d been able to fall in love and change his life so much in just a few months he’d never know… but even though Harry was older than him, he had the energy and mischievousness of someone much, much younger. Enough energy to carry them both.

Mycroft bit Greg’s neck. “Come on, if you think he’s pretty alone, wait until you see us together.”

He joined Harry under the shower, slotting into each other’s arms with a sigh. Harry whispered some words of love into his ear and Mycroft said then back as they stood under the warm water. He loved doing this. Just holding Harry close. Sure, the sex was phenomenal, but the quiet reassurance of his love was something that settled his nerves like nothing else. That he should be so lucky so late in life… 

Harry looked over Mycroft’s shoulder, no doubt making eye contact with Greg, who was still at a distance. Slowly, deliberately, he let his hands glide down Mycroft’s back, until he reached both cheeks, then pulled them apart to reveal the plug still nestled there. Mycroft gasped when he touched it lightly and pressed himself closer to Harry.

He’d never been aware of the depth of his exhibitionist streak before. Now, being shown off like this, he welcomed the warmth that settled low in his stomach… and even though he couldn’t get hard again so soon, the simmering arousal made his head get lost in a pleasant buzz.

“May I?” Greg asked, and Harry waited for Mycroft’s nod before giving his affirmation.

“Thank you,” he said before walking over, his hands joining Harry’s on Mycroft’s skin.

“Very good manners, I have to say…” Harry mused.

“This is all new. I don’t like to assume,” Greg replied.

“A model policeman,” Harry said.

“Just common decency,” Greg countered.

“So it is. Would do the world good to remember that sometimes.” Harry gave Greg a kiss over Mycroft’s shoulder. “Suppose I’m just a bit protective.”

Greg smiled, turned his head to kiss Mycroft’s cheek. “I understand.”

Mycroft tried hard not to preen between these two amazing men, who were fawning over him. Then Greg pushed down on the plug and all thoughts left Mycroft’s head at the delicious pressure. He moaned, didn’t know where to push himself, both bodies equally desirable. He felt Greg’s fingers closing in on the plug, a slight pull then, questioning.

“Yess…” he hissed low.

The pull was everything. Mycroft clung to Harry’s body as Greg slowly moved the plastic, wiggled it as he pulled, the toy stretching him further and further. God, he loved to be used like this. A gasp, loud and hard as the widest part slipped past the rim, the immediate sensation of emptiness. Mycroft heard the toy fall to the floor and then there were two fingers at his rim, stroking the sensitive part, slowly pushing in and out.

Then there was the shame. He wasn’t actually ashamed of what happened, but that little bit of shame that remained was glorious, and he hid his head in Harry’s shoulder as Greg’s fingers moved through what his lover had left behind. And the noises! Wet and embarrassing, mixed with Greg’s heavy breath at his neck. Perfect.

“God, you… you are…” Greg whispered.

Mycroft sighed as the fingers started massaging him there, soothing over all the aches and pains he might’ve had. Soon Greg was done and he had four hands on him instead, who were lathering his skin up with soap. Greg’s fingers in his hair good enough to moan, Harry’s hands on his neck, while he was sucking on his tongue.

All was a bit of a blur afterwards, Mycroft’s head so pleasantly floating, letting himself be gently pushed and pulled wherever these two brilliant men wanted him. He trusted them completely.

A little while later he found himself under a blanket back in the bedroom, cuddling deep into Greg’s arms while Harry went away to do… something or other.

“Mycroft?” Greg asked shyly.

Mycroft hummed, looked up to see Greg’s beautiful brown eyes full of emotion.

“This is really nice. Thank you for… for letting me stay. Letting me hold you.”

“Feels right,” Mycroft mumbled, burying his face in the crook of Greg’s neck.

It seemed like Greg wanted to say something, but then Harry returned, slipping under the blanket behind Mycroft, so he was sandwiched. Mycroft sighed blissfully and fell into a deep sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Greg woke to the beautiful sounds of Mycroft’s tiny moans, their heads so close still that he could feel the exhaled breath on his skin. He opened his eyes to the vision of Harry behind Mycroft, both on their sides, facing him, while was nibbling gently on his neck. Mycroft’s eyes were closed in bliss, panting, his body moving against Harry’s in waves. Greg dared to look lower, to find Harry’s hand wrapped around Mycroft’s erection, stroking slow and sensual, without hurry, just to enjoy.

“Gregory, there you are,” Mycroft said as Greg shifted slightly.

What greeted him as he looked back up was a brilliant smile, soft eyes and blush that was incredibly becoming. Mycroft reached out immediately and Greg went willingly into his arms, returning the embrace. They fell into each other, kissing like lovers, unhurried and full of emotion. The motion brought Greg’s more than interested cock into contact with Mycroft’s, but also Harry’s hand, which brushed past it on every gentle stroke.

“Harry…” he stammered as the man took him in hand, pressed his and Mycroft’s cock along each other to stroke them together.

“Sshh… just let go,” the other replied.

And Greg did just that. He moved against Mycroft, rocking with a growing need, feeling this perfect body against his, feeling Mycroft’s pleasure and joy, which filled his heart up with warmth and contentment.

He didn’t know how long they’d stayed like this, when Mycroft leaned over and whispered in his ear like a secret. “I want to take you,” he said. “I want to fuck you.”

“Yes, yes, yes…” Greg replied over and over, receiving another fierce kiss from Mycroft himself. “Please!”

Harry, ever helpful, detached himself briefly to supply Mycroft with a small bottle. He turned Greg on his back, legs open, still lying beside him. With slick fingers he ventured lower, brushed over Greg’s erection and then directly pushed two fingers in. Greg convulsed in his arms, breath escaping him in a rush. A tear escaped him and Mycroft immediately stilled.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, no… I… I just… I’m so happy. I haven’t been so happy in… I don’t even know…” Greg struggled to explain. “If…”

Mycroft cocked an eyebrow, pushed his fingers back in, which earned an enthusiastic moan.

“If what?” he asked.

Greg glanced at Harry, who was watching the proceedings with interest. He swallowed. Maybe this was the wrong time to say it, maybe it would ruin this… but the emotion was bubbling up to the surface.

“If you take me now, I can’t promise I won’t fall for you. I’m halfway there already. I’m so sorr—”

Greg was cut off by Mycroft’s mouth on his, a kiss so full of emotion and meaning that he wanted to sob. He dug his fingers into Mycroft’s back, holding him closer.

“Gregory…” Mycroft said as they parted, voice heavy. “Fall for me. Please. I would like nothing better than to cherish you and call you mine.”

“But you and—”

“I would be a fool to refuse someone who makes My happy. All I want is for him to be happy,” Harry cut him off. “I knew. He talked about you before. That’s why we were so eager to invite you.”

“I’ve always admired you, Gregory. And it would be no hardship at all to fall in love with you,” Mycroft added. “So, please… would you fall for me too?”

“Fuck me. Now,” Greg demanded and Mycroft obliged only too glady.

The relief when he pushed inside Greg flooded his body. There was a bit of discomfort, yes, but the magnitude of it washed over him like a revelation. Mycroft panted as he pushed in even further, mouth open, eyes closed in rapture.

“Please, please…” Greg said. “Move.”

Everything was a blur. He clung to Mycroft’s body, who moved above him, thrusting steadily, making the sweetest sounds. In no time at all his movements became erratic, and just like that a hand sneaked between them and Harry was there, stroking Greg in time with Mycroft’s thrusts. He threw his head back as the sensations threatened to overwhelm him, and then he came, shaking, shivering, fingers digging into Mycroft’s arms, who cursed and followed him over. Seeing Mycroft lost in pleasure was almost as good as falling himself. 

They fell over next to each other, Mycroft once more on his back between the two other men, which—according to his satisfied smile—was his favourite place in the world.

“I want to love you,” Greg whispered, reaching out to brush the hair from Mycroft’s sweaty forehead. “I want to.”

“Stay. It’ll happen without you even trying,” Harry said and stroked Mycroft’s face. “Believe me.”

“And you…”

“I’m clinging to every bit of happiness I can find. Once I realised… I jumped in completely. You never know how long you’ll be able to hold on. Especially in my profession,” Harry explained, his head on Mycroft’s shoulder. “My joy is not smaller if you share it. Especially when My is glowing like this. Beyond the fact that it’s very stimulating to watch you two, I feel this could work… Though of course we’ll have a lot to talk about.”

Greg’s throat had closed up listening to Harry talk. There was a sadness in his words that was audible without having to be explicitly expressed. Harry seemed smug and easygoing, but Greg had seen his professionalism shine through before. He was serious when it was required, level headed when needed and whimsical when he could.

“I think I’m starting to see what Mycroft loves about you.”

Harry grinned. “You do? Fallen for my body, have you?”

“Could you blame me?”

“Of course not. I mean, I’ve looked into the mirror lately. It’s frankly ridiculous what you’re getting here for free. And I’m not even the main prize,” Harry said with a wink.

Greg threw his head back in laughter and felt Mycroft chuckle next to him.

“Alright. Let me make it up to you then?”

“Oh?”

Greg gave Mycroft a quick kiss on the nose, then crawled down, between Harry’s legs. He licked along Harry’s length, which quickly became interested.

“Well, you have to start somewhere,” Harry mused.

“Indeed,” Greg replied with a grin and swallowed him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry  
> i am weak to ot3


	9. epilogue

seven months later

Greg fiddled with his tie. The nerves just didn’t want to settle. It was a casual event. Just the Yard’s Christmas party. He wasn’t even required to wear a suit, but he didn’t want to look sloppy next to his plus one. Well, plus two more like.

He clutched his glass a bit harder when Sally gave him a surprise pat on his shoulder. She was the only one who knew he was in a relationship now, even if he hadn’t told her who it was with. And she was in for a surprise, as were they all. Greg sighed. If anyone gave him a hard time about this, he just had to deal with it. Not only a man, but two of them. Gay and poly. He’d be single handedly responsible for a major jump in the Yard’s diversity statistic. He had to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Sally asked.

She was wearing a close fitting, sparkly green dress and a striking smile. The pub that the Yard had arranged for the party was full and noisy around them, packed with colleagues and friends.

“Just nervous, I guess.”

“Come on, I bet she’s perfectly lovely.”

Greg took another sip of his pint.

“He,” he said. “It’s… a man.”

“Well, then I bet he’s perfectly lovely,” Sally corrected herself. “That’s what you’re worried about? Come on, this is London.”

“Right. Sorry. And yes, he’s very lovely.”

“See? Don’t worry. You’ve been in such a good mood since you started dating. I’ve never seen you so relaxed. He can only be great.”

Greg smiled at Sally. He knew why he liked her. Together with Mycroft and Harry they had decided that it was time to make their association official, so they could finally engage in couple activities like fetching each other for lunch dates. In fact Harry would’ve shown up at the Yard every day he could, but he’d respected Greg’s period of hesitation while everything was still fresh. Mycroft had simply stated that everyone who had a problem with his private life would be easily booted out of a job.

“Ah, there you are,” Greg heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Harry,” Greg smiled and turned around. “You made it!”

“I’m just off the plane… sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t worry. I’m just happy you’re here.”

Greg happily accepted Harry’s arm sneaking around his waist and met him for a short but sweet kiss. He turned his head. Sally was staring. He didn’t blame her. Harry looked edible in his dark grey suit, his hair slicked back and the ever present smug smile.

“Harry, this is my colleague Sally Donovan. Sally, this is my partner Harry Hart.”

Harry shook Sally’s hand with a brilliant smile.

“A pleasure, Mr Hart,” she said.

“Please, Harry will be fine. Yes, a pleasure. It’s good to meet Greg’s work colleagues. God knows he’s suffered enough under mine.”

Greg gave a shy smile when Harry’s arm automatically found its way back around his waist, and he couldn’t resist leaning into him just a little. He was aware of drawing quite a few eyes in the room, but he wasn’t the only one with a partner that night and he decided to just not care about anyone else.

“So what do you do?” Sally asked.

“I’m a tailor. Bespoke clothing,” Harry replied. “I’m employed in a shop on Savile Row.”

“That explains why Greg looks so handsome tonight.”

“Greg always looks handsome,” Harry countered smoothly.

“Then you’ve never seen him after a 24 hour shift and roughly fifty coffee,” Sally laughed.

“I’ll expect an invite next time that happens.”

They exchanged more pleasantries, during which Sally tried to interrogate Harry more or less obviously. Greg started to relax.

“And how did you two meet?” Sally asked after a while.

“A mutual friend,” Harry said with a grin.

“I expected a whole story. That’s boring,” Sally said.

“Maybe,” Greg admitted, even though he remembered that weekend as everything else but boring. Harry’s chuckle confirmed he thought the same.

Two sergeants from his team joined the circle, demanding to be introduced. Harry was charm personified as he worked the room, and Greg felt prouder to be seen with him by the minute. All the nerves he’d felt before seemed ridiculous. Sure, there were some confused stares, and some people who distanced themselves, but they were few and far between, mostly those who didn’t know him well anyway. No loss.

An hour later they were standing in the back of the pub, taking a break from the publicity work, when he received a message.

“Mycroft can’t make it until about midnight…” Greg read out.

Harry embraced him, kissed Greg’s cheek.

“Sad?”

“A bit. But you’re here, so I can’t really be properly sad, can I?”

“We both know that the work doesn’t respect social boundaries…” Harry said. 

“True… Well, I hadn’t planned on staying that long. Would you mind we cut this short now and meet Mycroft at home? I’ll text him.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, darling.”

Greg gave Harry a grateful smile and kiss. They said their goodbyes in passing, Sally insisting they should meet up for brunch on Sunday, after she’d slept the night off on Saturday. Harry agreed readily and Greg’s heart grew when he saw him and Sally hug goodbye. He did the same, gratefully.

“Thanks for being cool with this… with Harry,” he said.

“I was right, he’s lovely. And he clearly thinks the world of you, so how could I not like him?”

Greg pushed back a tear and nodded. 

The crisp night air welcomed them outside, Greg slipping into his jacket, shivering. He linked arms with Harry and continued walking. The streets were full in central London that night, lights glittering above, everyone in a rush to get presents or get drunk… or both. No one paid the pair any mind as they went, in their own little bubble.

“Thank you,” Greg said after a while. “That was… really good.”

“Takes more than a pub full of cops to rattle me, darling.”

“I know, I know. Still… it feels good to be… out. Not that I was hiding, particularly…”

Harry leaned over and kissed Greg’s nose.

“Sally likes you,” Greg said.

“That’s important to you.”

“Yes. She’s a good partner and friend. I mean, I knew she’d like you, but it’s still nice to… see it.”

Harry hummed affirmatively.

“We’re taking Mycroft along on Sunday,” Greg continued.

“I think he’d—”

“Gregory! Harry!”

They hadn’t even realised that a car had stopped next to them, and Mycroft had jumped out, falling into their arms.

“Oh, Gregory, I’m so sorry… I managed to get away earlier, but it seems I was too late still. I apolo—”

Now it was Mycroft’s time to be cut off by Greg, who was silencing him with a kiss, which softened the other immediately. Greg never stopped being amazed by how much their love affected him. He could be almost always placated by a soft touch, a few loving words. He didn’t even want to think about how starved for affection he must still be, even though Harry and Greg did their best offset all the other years of his life.

“No need. We had a lovely night. Harry was the star of the show. Besides, you have your punishment already cut out for you. We’re doing brunch on Sunday.”

“Brunch,” Mycroft shuddered. “I’d rather do breakfast or lunch. This abomination is neither here nor there.”

Harry slipped his arms around Mycroft from behind, kissed his cheek.

“Come on, I’ll feed you little bites of pancake.”

Mycroft grumbled adorably, knowing he had already lost. Then he looked at Greg again, held his hands.

“I’m really sorry. I know how much this evening meant to you.”

“Well, they know I’m gay now.”

“Bi,” Harry corrected him.

“That’s not what they’ll see. And that’s fine, for now. Let them digest that first before I drop another bomb on them. It’s actually fine this way, I think. One thing at a time.”

“If you’re sure…” Mycroft said.

“Very sure, my sweet. Now let that car take us home so Harry can fuck me through the bed.”

“Oh?” Harry said. “Well, then hurry.”

He pulled Mycroft back to the large car, both of them falling over inside, laughing as they rolled over, trying and failing to get back up the seats. Greg took a moment to look around and a deep breath of the cool night air before he joined them. It was mad, this arrangement. He still thought so. But he’d also fallen for them so badly, he didn’t find it in him to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand we done. this little idea grew exponentially in my head. maybe i’ll return to them in the future. for now: thanks for reading!!


End file.
